don't shoot the messenger (bag)
Imagine my horror when today, I check my mail, and discover a coupon for a free messenger bag from Men�s Express.
I date women, I swear to God I do.
I have a weakness for �messenger bags,� and for things that are, �free.� There is a catch, there always is. I have to buy fifty dollars worth of argyle. Argyle is my kryptonite. The first grade teacher snarked today that I had worn a solid colored sweater, even I was amazed that I owned it.
Messenger bag, free, argyle. I guess I have something to do tomorrow morning after all.
I should be on the radio so I could offend a larger audience. I could start the show by going on and on about nothing in particular (like I do here), in the second hour Kipp and I would comment about the news and current events (occasionally my sister could appear and debate us on the issues, but it would just dissolve into an entertaining rant/counter rant where things were thrown and fowl language was exchanged and cleverly paired) in the third and final hour we would respond, cruelly, to our mail and callers.
It would have to start around three, way passed the crack of noon when we wake up. Even if I am �up� and moving around, I am really just on autopilot.